


A Merry Little Christmas

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: This year, Rogers and Tilly won’t spend Christmas Day on their own.





	A Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from one of my favourite Christmas songs, Frank Sinatra's _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_.

Holidays feel weird. Everyone sings and talks about family time, buying gifts, preparing the Christmas table, visiting family and friends...

And Rogers tosses the snow from his shoulder as he walks in the almost empty precinct, late on Christmas Day. Few are willing to stay in that day, and he may not know what it feels like, but at least he knows it's important for others to be with their families now. So every year he offers to work on holidays - Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's...

To his surprise, Weaver is still there, focused on paperwork.

"Hey, Weaver. Merry Christmas," he says, catching his attention.

"Rogers. You're in early."

Rogers shrugs. There's not really much to do at home right now. He  _could_ snuggle with his cat, but he doubts she'll mind being alone on Christmas as much as he does.

They chat for a while, then they turn to paperwork in silence. Not long after, Weaver bids him goodnight and happy Christmas.

Rogers prepares himself some coffee and returns to his desk, leaning back on his chair. Things will be very quiet until the first complaints come in. He's watching outside the window absent-mindedly when he hears a familiar voice.

"Hello, Detective!"

He turns, greeted by Tilly's beaming face standing by the door. Her cheeks and nose are bright pink, and he feels his heart stop when he notices she's still only wearing that light jacket she always wears.

"Tilly. Aren't you cold? That's a pretty light jacket for snowy weather."

Tilly shrugs nonchalantly. "It's all a matter of perspective. Weaver called, he said he had a job for me."

"He did? Right now?"

"Well," she says, scratching at her head, "it was about an hour ago."

Rogers stares at her. Did Weaver just up and leave, forcing the poor girl to walk in the freezing weather?

"Give me a moment, I'll be right back," he says, standing up. "Sit down if you like," he says, pointing at Weaver's desk. He walks out and into the kitchen, immediately dialing Weaver.

"Detective Weaver."

"Hey Weaver, Tilly's here."

"Tilly? She's- oh."

" _Oh_?"

"Yeah, I had a job for her. Totally forgot about it."

Rogers can't believe his ears. "You made the poor girl go out in the snow and forgot about it?"

"Yeah, I had that taken care of already."

There's something in his voice that doesn't convince Rogers. "What should I do with her now?"

"What should  _you_ do? She's a grown woman. She can go back home on her own. Listen, I gotta go now. Tell her Happy Christmas from me," Weaver says and hangs up on him.

Rogers groans in frustration. Now he's suddenly the one who has to tell her she came here for nothing.

"Hey Tilly," he says as he enters their joined office. "I'm afraid Weaver had to leave and didn't get the time to let you know." He decides to leave the part that he  _forgot_ about her out. "He says Merry Christmas."

Tilly's face falls a little, but she nods. "Okay, then. Sorry for taking up your time." She smiles a little and turns for the door.

It takes him three full seconds to call out to her. "Tilly! Wait."

She turns to him slowly.

"It's too cold outside, look, it's nearly a blizzard now." He's exaggerating, of course; but she still looks cold, and the thought of the thin, metallic walls of her boxcar being the only protection she'll have from the weather pulls at his heart. "Uh..." he says, thinking hard. "Do you maybe have the chessboard I gave you?"

She smiles broadly. "Yeah."

He smiles back. "How about a game?"

"But... aren't you working? Am I not taking your time?"

His heart breaks a little at how she's thinking of herself only taking up people's time. "Look around. Do you see any work in need to be done?"

She does look around, her smile turning a bit mischievous. "No,” she says.

"Come, then."

They end up playing for two solid hours, at which point Rogers hears the faint sound of Tilly's stomach grumbling. He keeps looking at the chessboard, seeing with the corner of his eye that she's ignoring it, probably hoping he didn't hear it.

An idea springs to his mind, and at just the right moment Sam calls at him. Rogers excuses himself, cheekily telling her to not cheat, and walks to the front office.

"Hey, Sam," he says when they're done and takes out a twenty, making sure Tilly isn't looking at them, "could you do me a favour?"

Plan in action, he goes back to continue his game with Tilly. Only half an hour later, Sam knocks at the office door, a pizza box in his hands.

"Hey, the pizza place had a two-for-one offer," he says. Rogers bites his lip, holding back a smile. That man's a horrible liar.

Tilly seems to buy it, though, and Rogers can't help noticing how her eyes follow the pizza box as Sam sets it down on the desk next to the chessboard.

"How nice of them," Rogers says, still holding back his smile. He opens the box, and his mouth waters at the scent. Damn, he's pretty hungry too.

"I should get going, then," Tilly says, preparing to stand up.

"What? Now? You'll have me eat this whole pizza by myself?" he says.

She opens her mouth, but her eyes keep going down towards the pizza.

"I mean, I know it's not ham... but I  _am_ bringing two plates and you're welcome to help yourself."

He simply turns away towards the kitchen, picking up two plates and sets of fork and knife, then walks back to the office, fake scowling at Tilly's scorn.

"Who eats pizza with forks?"

"I do," he says with a raised eyebrow, setting the plate and cutlery in front of her. "Did you even wash your hands?" he blurts out before he realizes he's stepped out of the line.

Tilly simply snorts, however, and stands up. "Fine."

Rogers stays near-frozen, his plate still in his hand as Tilly walks to the bathroom. What the hell? Where did that come from? He sits down at his desk, wondering if Tilly actually felt insulted by his words and only covered it with her usual humour.

"Are you okay?" he hears.

He snaps his head towards her, realizing he was just sitting there like an idiot. "Yeah. Just... I realized I haven't washed my hands either." He stands up with a nervous smile, but Tilly only playfully narrows her eyes at him, and he sighs in relief as he walks out. She didn't feel like she was babied.

 _Peculiar_ , he thinks, but shrugs it off.

He puts on a Christmas playlist, and they eat, and they play, and they chat, but they both manage to avoid mentioning any memories of past Christmases. There's not much he has to tell, anyway, and something tells him she probably doesn't, either.

When some work comes in, there's an actual blizzard going on outside, and even Tilly suggests it's better she stays at the station until it passes. He watches with the corner of his eye as she walks to the station's Christmas tree and starts re-decorating it, taking the decorations off the one side and putting them on the opposite one. When he's done, he passes on his papers to Sam and walks to her, still re-decorating.

The tree looks the same. He thought at first she was putting the decorations in a pattern, but they're as randomly put as they were before.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Oh," she says, as if caught doing something bad, and steps away from the tree. "Just... nothing."

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't push.

However, she continues. "Don't laugh," she says, biting her lip. "I used to do that when I was little, too. I always took the decorations from the back side and put them in front, then changed them back every day."

"Why?"

"Because they deserve being seen, too. And no-one looks at them when they're on the side that's facing a wall."

She looks down with a shy smile, and he's glad she doesn't see the tears that fill his eyes. He blinks them away, looking back towards the tree, saying, "That's so sweet of you."

She looks back up. "You think so?"

He nods. "Can I help with that?"

She nods, an earnest smile spreading on her face.

~

"So you'll be here all night?" she asks.

"Well, it  _is_ called a night shift."

She plops down on the sofa, shoulders hunched forward, and she yawns. "I've never had to work during the night," she says. "Is it hard?"

He shrugs. "Depending on what night it is. In my line of work, usually it's busier than working during the day. It's been surprisingly quiet today."

"Hmm," she says as she leans back on the sofa, eyelids heavy.

He pretends to ignore her dozing off by checking some papers. He only looks up with a smile when he hears the faintest of snores coming from her direction.

 _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_  starts playing, and he sighs. He stands up, taking a soft blanket and walking to the sofa. He softly guides Tilly to lie down, putting a pillow under her head. She hums happily, a smile spreading on her face, and he covers her with the blanket. She burrows under it, smile still visible on her raised cheekbones.

He smiles softly too, almost overwhelmed now with the whim to kiss her forehead.

He swallows hard, ignoring it. "Merry Christmas, Tilly," he says simply, smiling as he walks back to his desk.


End file.
